


So Little of Me

by MsChievous



Series: Whumptober 2020 [10]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Chronic Illness, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Medication, Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27200002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsChievous/pseuds/MsChievous
Summary: Whumptober 22 - Withdrawal.Prompto deals with a chronic illness through medication that has nasty withdrawal effects. When he runs out during the road trip, the bros (namely Ignis and Gladio) think the worst.CW: Negative views toward drug addiction/abuse/withdrawal
Series: Whumptober 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949494
Comments: 28
Kudos: 113





	So Little of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Based on some art the lovely [Kaciart](https://kaciart.tumblr.com/) of Prompto suffering through withdrawal. If she ever posts it on her Tumblr I'll link it here

He's 15 when he gets the diagnosis. Scourgeswell disease, caused by contact with material infected with the Starscourge. Incurable, but treatable. He starts taking the medicine, though he's warned not to stop unless a doctor recommends him to do so as withdrawal has been noted to be…. Extreme. 

He doesn't think much of it, however. While the medicine is fairly expensive for something he literally needs to keep living, his parents' health insurance covers most of the costs so he's not super far up a creek thanks to the cost. It's become a regular part of his life: once a month he goes to the doctor, they run more tests, and adjust his dosage accordingly.

It becomes a habit, to wake up, swallow down the pills, and get up to face the day. He doesn't think to mention it to Noctis when they first meet, and the prince is always asleep when he takes the medicine so it never comes up. 

He never thought it would cause so much heartache.

* * *

He flops onto the bed, groaning as the soft bed relieved the pressure on his feet and legs. “It feels like we’ve been walking for _miles_ ,” he groans, burrowing his face into the soft pillow, “I never thought ‘d feel such warm and comfort again.”

“Careful not to get the bed too dirty,” Ignis warns, though a fond smile quirks his lips, “Once His Highness is done, it’s your turn in the shower.”

“Careful,” Prompto replies dreamily, “you could make me fall in love.”

In lieu of an answer, the advisor rolls his eyes, neatly unpacking his clothes into the drawer. Never mind they would only be staying here for a couple days at most, but Ignis always insisted on unpacking clothes when they stayed at a motel. It was surprisingly inefficient for the man who used two-in-one shampoo and conditioner.

Nevertheless, Prompto sat up in bed and shuffled over to his own suitcase, pulling out his toiletries bag in preparation for his turn to wipe all the grime and soreness out with a nice hot shower.

Noctis exits the bathroom almost fifteen minutes later, lazily towelling off his hair. He nods to Prompto, then makes his way over to the bed, flopping in still half-wet. Ignis clucks his tongue but says nothing. ‘

Gladio raises an eyebrow. “Hope you don’t plan on falling asleep like that,” he mutters, “You’ll catch a cold.”

The prince mumbles some sort of response as Prompto slips into the bathroom.

The shower feels about as divine as he expects, warm water cascading down his aching back and neck to pool at his feet. He sighs, rubbing the tense spot between his shoulder blades gently, breathing deep to ease the tension. He’s not sure if the pain is caused by his disease or by running around incessantly, but whatever the case, a nice hot shower usually does the trick.

After the shower, he dries himself off and hooks his toiletry bag to the hand towel rack to remind himself to take his medicine tomorrow. Since their plans had been… _interrupted_ , he only had a month’s supply of his medicine left, but he was fairly sure they’d be able to get some more before he was at risk of running out.

* * *

“Prompto,” Ignis looks the blond up and down. His expression is neutral though his tone is sharp. “What are you holding? What is that?”

The blond looks down at the toy in his hands. “Oh, I won this from the Justice Monster’s Six arcade box over there. I got it for hitting 90 treasure chests in one game,” He grins, puffing out his chest in pride.

“And how much did you spend on it?”

Immediately, the happiness swelling in his chest is replaced with hollowness. “Wh-what do you mean?” He tries to keep the facade up, but now Ignis looks disappointed and he can’t stop his hands from shaking. 

Ignis sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We do not have the coffers of the state at our disposal anymore. We must save money and be frugal. We don’t have any extra money to spend on toys and games like that.”

Prompto bows his head, nodding along until Ignis is done with his scolding. He blinks back the tears bubbling in the corners of his eyes, refusing to let them fall. As Ignis walks away, Prompto is struck with a sudden realization. If they don’t have the money for unnecessary expenses, how could they hope to afford the medicine to treat the Scourgeswell? With his parents’ insurance it was almost 1200 crowns, and he’s still not entirely sure of the rate of exchange between crowns and gil. Who knows how much that could put them back?

He twists the Lord Vexxos statue nervously in his hands. He’s not exactly sure how many pills he has left, how long they’ll last him. But once they run out… what’s he going to do? He worries his lip as he follows Ignis out of the Kenny Crow’s, wondering what he’s going to do now.

* * *

It’s two weeks and three days when Prompto takes the last pill from his pill bottle. It was a bottle of painkillers in its past life, scrubbed clean of its label and with Prompto’s name written across it in blue sharpie. It was the only thing that could fit two month’s worth of his pills, but now it’s painfully empty. 

He remembers, vaguely, his doctor’s warnings about missing a dose. He had almost done so a few times, but the pain and nausea usually reminded him within a few hours.

 _Well_ , he thinks, _This is going to be interesting._

* * *

Interesting is….. an understatement. It takes till just after lunch for the symptoms to start showing up. It starts with the muscle aches that start awful and just keep getting worse. It’s like every step he takes is on knife points, and every nerve ending in his skin snags against his clothes. He feels every brush of denim and flannel and polyester, rough against his skin and it feels like he’s being skinned alive.

Then the runny nose, and the tightness in his chest follows soon after. It’s bad enough that he has to keep up with the rest of them, but the battles are the worst part yet. His arms shake uncontrollably, to the point where he doesn’t trust himself to shoot towards his friends.

Gladio makes a passing comment about him taking down fewer enemies, but before Prompto can respond that it’s just his shaky arms, Gladio moves on to rib Noctis about the prince’s second-place finish. Prompto sighs and banishes his weapon to the Armiger. It’s almost time to bed down for the night and he’s desperate for the sweet release of sleep.

Every moment he’s helping Gladio set up the tent, or passing out bowls of soup for Iggy, or grinding levels with Noct, it feels like he’s going to cry. But he’s got plenty of experience holding back tears, and he manages to do so until a decent enough time at night that it’s not too awkward for him to turn in.

He scoots around on his sleeping bag, trying to find a position that didn’t make his every nerve ending quake in pain, but it’s an exercise in futility. Noctis finds his way inside the tent not long after Prompto, but the prince finds his way to sleep much more easily. Then next is Ignis, who stays up on his phone for another half hour before turning it off and going to bed. Gladio follows not long after Ignis has already nodded off, and soon Prompto is the only one still awake, heart pounding and head pulsing. All the emotions he’s been pushing to his core threaten to come up all at once and he scrambles free of the confines of his sleeping bag as silently as he can, praying that he doesn’t wake anyone up.

The night air is fresh and cool and _painful._ He gulps in an agonizing breath, falling to his knees at the hopelessness of it all. The tears start to fall, slowly at first then faster to the point where he can barely between his hiccups.

His heart is pounding in his chest so hard he’s sure he can hear it, and every nerve is on fire and he’s sure that he’s going to die from the pain alone-

“Prom?” 

The sound of the prince’s voice drives everything into silence for a moment before it all crashes down on him. Prompto meet’s Noctis’ sleep-muddled gaze and scrambles to his feet, ignoring the jabs of pain from the haven below. “N-Noct! Hey, what’s up?”

The prince rubs an eye lazily, and Prompto winces at the phantom pain over his own eye. “You okay?”

“‘Course!” The blond chips, though even he can tell it doesn’t have the same pep as usual.

Noctis makes a non-committal noise and steps forward, looping an arm around Prompto’s shoulders. 

Pain lances across his back and shoulders, and he can’t hold back a yelp and start of pain. He looks away from Noctis’ worried gaze, picking at the skin under his nails absentmindedly. “S-sorry you just surprised me,” he says, though the lie sounds fake even to him.

“Prompto, what’s wrong?” Noctis asks.

The blond heaves in a breath, trying to figure out what to say that would put his friend’s mind at ease, but the words get muddled between his brain and tongue, and he’s left breathing hard, legs like jelly.

He feels Noctis’ hands on him, gentle yet painful, but everything else is cold and distant, too fuzzy for him to focus on even though he tries. He vaguely wonders if he’s dying, but dying probably wouldn’t last this long.

* * *

Noctis groans as a foot smashes into his gut, jolting him out of his nap. He turns to the other side when he notices the sound of hyperventilation and scrambling limbs. Glancing over, he sees a bunched-up sleeping bag where Prompto once was and the tent flap blowing in the breeze.

Concern overwhelms his desire to go back to sleep, so he forces himself to stand, stumbling out of the tent after his friend.

He sees the blond on his knees in the middle of the haven, fingers scrabbling at the hem of his vest. His shoulders and chest heave with tears, and the sight makes Noctis’ stomach twist. “Prom?” he asks cautiously, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Prompto whirls around and jumps up, looking like a kid with their hand stuck in a cookie jar.”N-Noct! Hey, what’s up?” He speaks with a voice barely tainted by tears, though they’re clearly still falling down his cheeks. He’s momentarily taken aback by the clear disconnect, but he steps forward, rubbing at his eye again to clear the last bit of gunk. 

“You okay?” He asks, though the answer is clearly no.

“Of course!” A typical Prompto response, but with none of the genuine emotion Noctis is used to hearing. He steps forward, wrapping an arm around his friend’s shoulder.

Prompto jumps like he’s been burned, tear-soaked eyes wide in alarm before he shifts back into a more playful expression. “S-sorry you just surprised me,” he says, picking at the skin around his nails til it bleeds. 

Noctis winces at the pain in his friend’s voice. “Prompto, what’s wrong?” He asks. This is so unlike Prompto, it’s like he was possessed by some evil spirit. Not that that was a thing.

His thoughts turn back to the blond, whose legs start shaking until the collapse. Noctis manages to catch his friend, though his heart drops to the floor. “I-Iggy!” He yells. Prompto’s jerking oddly now, staring straight ahead but with no sign he sees or hears anything. He holds Prompto close, grabbing his wrists to keep him from scratching himself.

The advisor scrambles out of the tent a few moments later with Gladio right behind him. They look to one another, then back to Prompto. Ignis immediately steps forward, taking either side of Prompto’s face. He presses the back of his hand to the blond’s forehead and cheeks and glances down at his arms. 

His lips press into a firm line and he glances to Gladio, standing off to the side in nothing but his boxers. “Grab the Regalia, he needs medical attention.” Gladio nods and starts stuffing his muscular limbs into clothes.

Noctis’s heart drops even farther. “What’s wrong with him? He was just fine a few hours ago.”

Ignis clicks his tongue. “It seems Prompto is suffering the effects of withdrawal,” he responds. “It’s likely he was attempting to hide the withdrawal from us for obvious reasons and was unable.”

“With...withdrawal? From what? He’s not, he doesn’t-”

“I couldn’t guess what he chose to poison himself with, Highness. But growing up in an area like that, there’s little doubt he was exposed to it. Growing up without strong parental figures would also put him at increased risk for such dangerous behaviors.”

Noctis’s jaw hangs open at Ignis’ words. Did he really think so low of Prompto that they thought he would start using drugs? “He wouldn’t-”

But then he remembers the occasional sleepover with his friend- the sound of pills being taken in the early morning, when he wasn’t quite awake - the empty pill bottles he would see in his friend’s garbage can. All fairly innocuous things until a pattern emerged. 

“We need not debate whether or not Prompto is engaged in such activities, this episode is proof enough. We need only to get him to the proper facilities to treat him.”

Noctis nods, looking away from where Prompto was shuddering and attempting to break from his grasp. The tears fell heavier now, and every hiccup and gasp for breath tore deeper into Noctis’ chest.

Before too long, Prompto has been loaded into the backseat of the Regalia next to Gladio, while Noctis was shoved into the front. He spends most of the car ride looking back at the shivering blond, still staring into empty space. Worry gnaws in his gut, both at what was happening to his friend and what the future would hold.

* * *

Ignis stands in the waiting room, resisting the urge to tap his foot to show his impatience. He’s mentally kicking himself for missing every red flag in Prompto and Noctis’ relationship that pointed to this very topic. Prompto’s flakiness, his agitated personality, his nervous tendencies, his secrecy and excuses that rarely made sense. Had he put the pieces together, he could have stopped Noctis’ disappointment from the start.

But who would think someone as sunny and personable as Prompto would be involved in such a dark underworld? He shudders to think what other sort of rabble could get close to the Crown.

Noctis, of course, is not happy with the idea of being forcibly separated from his friend. He complains that they should talk to Prompto about it, but Ignis is not fond of dealing with more of Prompto’s lies. It’s not even that Prompto got sucked into drug use (okay, well it’s a little bit of that), but he obviously continued his drug use while friends with Noctis, undetected. And when his “stash” was running low, he still did not tell them information that could have saved a lot of heartache and stress.

Just as Ignis is about to start tapping his fingers on the countertop as a passive-aggressive comment on how much time has passed, a nurse slips behind the counter and looks up at him. 

“Hello, sir, how can I help you?”

“Yes, I’d like to inquire regarding my friend who has been brought in last night. Prompto Argentum.”

The nurse nods, then turns to tap on his computer. “What is your name?” He asks.

“Ignis Scientia.”

The nurse nods. “Unfortunately, I cannot disclose any medical information as you are not listed as someone he has consented to disclose his medical history to, nor can I confirm or deny whether he is receiving treatment here.”

The advisor snorts. “This is ridiculous. Thank you for your time,” He says politely, turning on his heel and striding away. It seems Prompto held a great many more secrets he didn’t want them to know.

* * *

Prompto blinks up at the ceiling dully. It feels like his mind is moving through molasses, and his body’s not much faster. It takes him a few minutes to realize that he’s in a hospital bed, and a couple minutes more to remember what had just happened.

He looks around for one of his friends, but disappointingly, he’s alone. He sighs and lets his head fall back in the pillow. 

He must have fallen asleep, because he wakes up to the sound of a shutting door. He blinks up at a nurse, who smiles back down at him. “Hello Mr. Argentum, how are you feeling? My name is Kara, and I will be taking care of you.”

He blinks up at her dazedly before his mind catches up. “Ah… I’m okay…”

The nurse nods. “Are you feeling especially hot or cold?” He shakes his head, “Any sort of nausea or tingling?” Again, he shakes his head. “Any sore throat, headache, or runny nose?” After the last negative reply, she smiles. “That’s good to hear. Do you know what brought you in here today?”

“I-I stopped taking my Scourgeswell medicine. Didn’t have enough.”

The nurse flicks across her tablet. “Ah, yes it looks like you were on… Aniflaxabrine? Strong stuff. Definitely don’t want to stop using that. We can go ahead and get another prescription for you so you can get it filled. We’re going to keep you here for another few hours for observation, then you are free to go!" She chirps.

Prompto nods, letting his head fall back against the pillow. "D'you have my phone?" He asks.

The nurse gestures to a plastic bag on the side table. "All your personal possessions are right in there. You can make the call in the waiting room if you'd like?" She suggests.

* * *

Noctis' phone goes straight to voicemail. Prompto sighs in disappointment, but figures they're busy on a hunt, probably to pay for his hospital stay. He tries not to be too disappointed, five hours later, that he still hasn't picked up. 

Maybe the prince's phone was simply off. Iggy prided himself on being punctual with communication. So Prompto dialed his number next, fidgeting anxiously with a loose thread hanging from the armhole.

The call goes to voicemail, but at least it rings several times. “Hey,” he says into the answering machine, “It’s me…” He pauses, worrying his bottom lip. “Um, I’m… they’ve released me from the hospital, so whenever is convenient for you, I’m ready to go.” He pauses again, then adds, “Sorry for scaring you all like that. Um, bye. See you soon hopefully?”

He ends the call and lets his hand fall into his lap. The meds they filled him with still make him feel sluggish and stupid, though, a bitter part of him thinks, not that he doesn’t do that just fine on his own. 

Just as he’s about to find the cafe the nurse told him about, he feels his phone buzz in his hand. Glancing down, he sees he received a text from Ignis. 

**_Ignis (3:26 pm):_ ** **I will come by to pick you up in fifteen minutes. We have a lot to discuss.**

The last sentence sends a wave of panic through him, wondering what he did wrong, and whether they hadn’t been responding because they were _mad_ at him. He tries to banish the thought away - they wouldn’t cut him out like that, they were good friends. Ignis must plan to scold him for being so lax about medications and putting them all at risk. Because that’s how he thinks.

Prompto continues taking deep breaths, letting the medicine slow his panicking heart. He’s overthinking this, everything will be okay, he just has to apologize and everything will go back to normal. With a sigh, he shuffles over to the waiting room and sits. There’s other people around him, so he does his best to avoid fidgeting and moving around so as not to disrupt them, but he can’t shake worries about what Ignis wants to discuss.

Fifteen minutes later and there’s still no sign of the advisor. Prompto jiggles his leg pensively, resisting the urge to check his phone for the third time this minute. Instead, he fiddles with the papers he received from the nurse, eyes scanning over the words, but not really reading them.

Nearly ten minutes late (a new record for the ever-punctual advisor), a familiar figure steps through the automatic doors and Prompto jumps to his feet. “H-hey Iggy!” He says, trotting up to the brunet.

Ignis looks down at him with a neutral expression that somehow feels like a kick in the gut. “The car is parked just outside.”

Prompto follows, head down as the advisor walks ahead. Once they’re finally in the car, he turns around. “Where are Noctis and Gladio?” He asks, heartbeat rising with every second of silence that fell between them. 

Ignis sighs. “Noctis is no longer allowed near you, and vice versa.”

Prompto feels like he’s drowning, like the world is crashing in around him and the one solid point in his life was finally giving away beneath him. He feels suddenly breathless, and the pricking of tears in the corner of his eyes from Ignis’ short treatment spring forward as genuine tears. “Wh-why?” It seems such an obscene punishment for not taking his medicine that he’s sure this is some kind of cruel joke, but he’s not sure which option is worse…

“I don’t know what sort of... I don’t know what you’ve been using or what is going on with you, but I will not allow it nor you near Noctis.” The advisor starts the car and takes off. Every turn and jostle sends waves of nausea through Prompto’s stomach. “I’m quite disappointed in you, Prompto,” he says severely, and _that’s_ what does it.

He crumbles in on himself, tears falling in earnest now. It’s all he can do to keep from sobbing aloud, but he’s sure Ignis knows how much those words would devastate him. He spends the rest of the awkward car ride trying to stop crying like the baby he was but every time he would get close to calming, another wave of despair would crash over him, dragging him down the more he fought.

The car purrs to a stop in front of a podunk motel. Prompto does his best to surreptitiously wipe the tears from his face. “S-so, I’m not staying with-”

“I took the liberty of renting you your own room. I paid for two nights, so you have that time to get everything together and move on.”

The words send Prompto’s stomach spiraling just a little bit further towards his toes. He wraps his arms around himself, not daring to look into the advisor’s eyes. “I-I’m sorry, Iggy. I-” he bites his lip when the brunet inhales sharply, “Thank you for everything. A-and tell Noct I say goodbye.”

Ignis hands over a keycard, but says nothing.

Part of him hopes to come across the prince in the halls, but he’s sure Gladio is keeping him sequestered away. Can’t have the useless hanger-on ruining everything for them. The room seems… emptier. Not just because it’s just him, that much is obvious, but he misses the card games and nighttime chats and casual cuddle sessions. It’s just.... An empty hole in his chest where this all should be.

He sighs and goes to take shower, noting that the plastic bottle that used to hold his pills was gone. Ignis must have recycled it for him when he set up everything in the room. He takes a quick shower before flopping down on the bed. A sudden thought crashes around him and he reaches instinctively towards the Armiger. He feels the magic course around him and his heart beats slows slightly. So at least he had that…

* * *

Ignis watches Prompto go, looking rather like a kicked puppy. He waits for the blond to disappear entirely inside the motel before parking the car. And now he’ll have to deal with Noctis whining about things he didn’t have a handle on. Lovely.

He moves to leave the car when he notices Prompto left the hospital documents on the floor. Ever the messy one, that Prompto. The moral thing to do would be to bring them to their owner, but Ignis figures… with all the secrets the blond was keeping, this was their best shot of understanding exactly what was happening.

Tucking them under his arm, he makes his way back to their own hotel room.

Noctis barely stirs from the bed when he enters, but Gladio looks up and shuts his book. “What’s the news?”

“He has been told his services are no longer needed,” Ignis responds, ignoring Noctis’ shallow laugh, “and has agreed to stay away. We have time yet to complete more hunts before we need to bed down for the evening.”

Noctis makes a noncommittal noise in the back of this throat.

“If you wish to remain petulant, that is your choice, but you have a _duty_ , and I cannot let you forsake it.” He adjusts his glasses and lets out a long breath. “I know this hurts, Highness. It was not easy for me either. But we cannot have him put you in danger with his habits.”

“You’re not even giving him a chance,” The prince spits out.

“He was given a chance, and he blew it, princess,” Gladio interrupts, “there’s no take-backsies in battle. Deal with it.”

...Perhaps a bit harsher than he would have phrased it, but the intent was there. “This would be a good time to relax for our upcoming journey. We don’t need to take on any hunts anyway.”

Gladio shrugs, turning back to his book while Ignis takes the other armchair and rifles through Prompto’s papers. It’s certainly an invasion of privacy, but it was for Noctis’ own sake, so they could understand what was happening with the boy who had so recently been their friend.

The first few papers are bland in the information department, simply handouts on billing. There’s not much there, except for a line about “Aniflaxabrine”. He makes a mental note to research what that medication is used to treat and flips to the next page.

Ah, an informational page about the very medicine he was prescribed.

As he carefully peruses the handout, Ignis' heart sinks further and further into his chest and he realizes just how much he fucked up. He only hopes it's not too late.

* * *

A half hour later, Prompto finds himself sufficiently cried out in the comfort of a steaming hot shower. He steps out and wipes condensation off the mirror, just enough for him to brush his teeth. His stomach grumbles faintly for food but the last thing he wants to do right now and besides… the hunger is an old friend. A better friend than he was to the others.

He moves over to the bed and flops down, wishing the ground would just swallow him whole so he wouldn't have to deal with disappointing his friends.

He's barely drifitng off to an early sleep when a knocking noise jolts him into wakefulness. He glances toward the door, then cautiously pads forward, peeking through the peephole.

Ignis stands on the other side of the door, looking uncharacteristically nervous, papers tucked under one arm.

Prompto opens the door, heart racing. "Hey- hello, Ignis. I- do you need something?" He asks, balling his hands in his pants pockets. 

Ignis meets his eyes. "I do," he replies, and Prompto is _sure_ he is going to get another lecture. "Prompto, I-" the advisor's voice fluctuates, choked up by emotion. 

Ignis clears his throat. "I misjudged you, Prompto, and caused you more grievance when you were already suffering. I assumed your attack yesterday was a result…" He takes a deep breath as if steeling himself for what he had to say next, "I believed you were using recreational drugs."

The words shoot absolute horror through Prompto's chest. He gapes for a moment. Then, as Ignis opens his god damn mouth to explain his bullshit even further, Prompto finds his voice. "You really thought… Even if I _would_ do something like that, _which I wouldn't_ , I seriously thought you'd be smarter than to think taking away the _one_ stable part of my life in this fucked up world we're living in would make my issues magically go away!" He seethes. "Instead of talking to me _like an adult_ , you decided not to deal with a tough issue and tried to sweep it under the fucking rug. And you come back here expecting… what? You want me to _forgive you?"_

Ignis' eyebrows fly toward his hairline and he purses his lips. "I only want to apologize. Whether or not you forgive me is up to you."

The tiredness in the advisor's voice gives Prompto pause. "I'll sleep on it," the blond mutters, closing the door before Iggy even has a chance to try and respond.

Just when he had thought he cried his last, too. The tears start up again, hot and angry in rivers down his face. He falls back in bed, wishing for this shitty day to finally be over.

Another knock at the door interrupts his crying session. He wipes the tears and runny nose away, shuffling over to the door. 

He opens it expecting a worker to tell him to keep the volume down or even kick him out for the disturbance, but instead, Noctis stands there.

"H-hey, Prom," the prince starts, "I… I'm sorry. Can I please come in?"

Prompto looks his… friend?... up and down before standing aside. He hates that the tears are still coming, but at least they're silent again. "What do you want?" He asks.

Noctis' scuffs his boot against the floor. "I argued with Iggy to let you stay with us, but I should have fought harder. So… I'm sorry. He says that you're welcome to do whatever you want next, but I was just wondering if you would want to stay with us?" He asks hopefully. He catches sight of Prompto's uncertainty and quickly adds, "You don't have to if you don't want to, but I would like you to at least consider it."

Prompto shrugs. "I… I don't know anymore, Noct. Everything's been happening so fast, I just…" he trails off, flopping back onto the bed. "I just don't know."

The prince steps forward. "Can I at least stay here for tonight? I don't… I don't want to make you feel alone."

The blond shifts to look at his friend. "Yeah, I'd like that."


End file.
